Fallout: Twenty One Six
by shichikage77
Summary: (Edited) Over the last few years, the Eastern Brotherhood of Steel have become a force to be reckoned with. They are finalizing their control over the D.C. ruins. While this is happening the Regulators have discovered that their is major trouble to the North. The Lone Wanderer is sent to find out what's happening. Will his presence lead to a war?
1. Chapter 1

**Twenty One Six **

**Chapter 1 **

The gunshot sang out across the wasteland. A super mutant's head splattered against the wall of the capital building. Click. Clang. Chuck. Boom. Had become a repeating noise in his brain. Over and over again. The sound of a rifle emptying a shell, loading another, and firing. Every bullet hitting a target. Be it a large orange foe, or a smaller combatant dressed in green armor.

"Goddamn," Sentinel, Sarah Lyons, muttered beside him. A few more noises of discomfort came from the Lyon's Pride behind her.

...

"Goddamn!" The young Talon Company mercenary screamed as blood and gore splattered across his forest green breast plate. He brought his arms up to cover his face. Not wanting to look at his friend.

The merc beside him, his friend, fell to his knees. Gasping for air, groping at his throat. Trying to stop the blood from draining from the hole in his wind pipe.

The younger merc. quickly jumped behind a fallen block of concrete. A 50. Caliber round chipped off a large piece of his newly acquired cover.

"Their's someone flanking us!" He screamed at the top of his legs. Trying to gain his commander's attention. Another Merc down the line from him waved to confirm that he had heard him. The other rushed forward towards their commander.

"Garrison! Garrison! Commander!" He called out in vain.

Commander Garrison, a middle aged, gray haired man, turned around to look for his subordinate. He spotted the man. One of the younger mercs. Nothing but a greenhorn on the team. Garrison raised his eyebrows as he noticed the boy's eyes widen and his mouth gape.

A roar echoed behind him. The Commander span around on his heels. The Super Mutant Overlord was already dragging a super sledge from space towards his head. He let out a silent scream.

The young merc watched as the sledge completely obliterated his commander's skull. Grayish and red unidentified matter flew everywhere. Coating the super sledge, the ground, and the Overlord alike.

A shiver ran down the boy's spine as another gunshot echoed through out the mall. And part of the Overlord's skull was ripped off. The mutant stumbled back, dropping the super sledge. Which landed on the Commander's limp body. The giant mutant let out a dying howl as another shell slammed through his chest. Sending reddish, green blood everywhere.

...

"Take the Pride, and wipe out any bastard with a talon on their chest. I'll take the mutants." The Lone Wanderer said firmly. Never taking his eyes from the sniper rifle's scope.

"Got it." Sarah nodded.

"Wait a damn minute. We've fought enough muties without you, we can take'em." Dusk, one of the Pride, pushed forward. He sniper rifle hanging loosely in her hand.

"Dusk." Clovin said, putting a an armored hand on her soldier. The young sniper turned her head away. Anger making her cheeks red. She slipped the helmet on and stalked to stand behind Kodak.

Sarah took a deep breath, and slowly released it after hearing the click of her helmet. Reaching over her shoulder, she grabbed the stalk of her laser rifle. The power armor's enchanted strength allowing her to pull it off of the magnetic weapon holder.

"Alright," She pointed towards the doors of the Capital building,"Move out!"

...

The young merc opened his mouth to scream, but a laser shot through his chest before the sound left him. A second Talon Company soldier brought his gun up and fired off a few rounds.

Bullets pinged off of Sarah's armor. She turned, bringing the laser up as she twisted. Two pulls of the trigger sent the soldier who had attempted to kill her, to his knees. Smoking holes in stomach.

She bit her lip underneath the steel helmet. How many lives had she taken in the twenty five years of her life? Sarah chalked down another "X" on the imaginary list. She hadn't killed them. The wasteland is just a hard place.

"AHH!" The scream came from beside her. Breaking her train of thought. Sarah turned quickly. Her Brotherhood training taking over.

The merc in front of her slashed with his combat knife for the unprotected parts of her armor. Near the waist. Without thinking Sarah jumped back. Narrowly dodging the blow.

A moment later the mercenary's head exploded. Launching blood and brain matter open Sarah's armor. Coating her visor.

She glanced at the glint of a sniper's scope. Gallows had saved her.

...

"Nice shot..." The Wanderer muttered. Firing again. Killing another mutant at the top of the Capital's stairs.

Gallows grunted in acknowledgement, before pumping another round into the chamber and rising the gun back to his shoulder.

...

The rest of the Pride were mowing down Talon Company soldiers. Gallows and the Wanderer seemed to keep most of the mutants at bay.

Sarah set forth. Slowly maneuvering through the bodies. Most of then had smoking holes in them, from being scorched by lasers. Even more had bits and pieces missing from the rifle fire.

She glanced to her left. Palivan Glade held his mini gun at ready. To her right, Vargas was picking his way around a couple of super mutant Master corpses.

"Fall in!" She called out to the others. The Mall had become deadly silent. Her voice seeming to echo in the quietness. Sarah felt a shiver run down her spine. Something was off. Very off. But there was no turning back now.

The Pride slowly filled into their spaces in a battle formation. Sarah took the lead. They walked up the stairs. Pushing pass the fallen mutant corpses. Not even the Talon Company had made it this far.

A shimmer ran through the air in front of her. Knight Captain Dusk brought her sniper rifle on par with the shimmer. The Lone Wanderer materialized in front of them. His dark green duster blowing slightly with the breeze. A scruff warped the lower half of his face, hiding it from view. His messy black hair hung in his eyes.

The young man raised his eye brows in question of the gun. Dusk begrudgingly lowered her weapon. Not intent on making the Wanderer angry. She had heard stories about people who made the Wanderer angry. And those stories never had a happy ending.

Spinning on his heels, the Wanderer started towards the entrance to the Capital.

"Wait! Where the hell is Gallows?" Kodiak question.

"He said he'll be up in a few minutes." The Wanderer said, opening the door and entering the Capital building.

Kodiak glanced around at the rest of the pride. Vargas shrugged his armored shoulders. Clovin and Glade both looked to Sarah for orders.

Sentinel Lyons nodded. "Alright, this is close quarters combat. We stick together and cover each other's backs. Move in!" She called to her Pride. They slowly advanced into the building.

Five corpses scattered the main lobby. Two Talon mercs laid spread eagle on the front desk. Something had penetrated their armor. Leaving a bloody, nasty looking hole in both of their chest.

Two more super mutant corpses lay thrown on the lobby floor. Each vasting in a pool of greenish, red blood. The one on the left neck was sliced open. It's orange brother had several gunshot wounds on his face, leaving it completely unidentifiable.

The fifth body sit at the Wanderer's dangling feet. The young man was perched atop a fallen stone pillar. Looking bored as the Pride came in. The merc body at his feet had a Chinese Officer sword protruding from his chest. The blade slammed through the metal and penetrating the heart.

Taking a deep breath, the Wanderer hopped off the stone pillar. He grabbed the blade's handle and yanked on it. It came free with a sickening sound of steel sliding against wet flesh.

After flicking the blood off the blade, the Wanderer nodded towards a large door behind the circular center desk.

"There should be a corridor through that door. After we navigate it. We should end up in the center of this building. We'll kill anything that moves. Once we make it to the center. Vargas will swipe the area with the Pride." The young man took another breath and stepped towards the door.

"You can't order us around!" Knight Captain Dusk, having pushed her way out of formation, snapped at the young man's back. He glanced over his shoulder at her. The color seemed to fade from the Knight Captain's flesh. She became quiet. The young man's unblinking blue gaze never leaving her. His eyes seeming to bare holes through her face.

She gulped and stepped back into the Pride's battle formation.

The Wanderer's unchanging eyes turned back, he pulled the door open. It squeaked loudly from years of not having it's hinges oiled. Without a second to waste, the dark haired boy stepped in.

...

Moving towards the door, the Pride took up the rear.

Sarah flinched in her armor as a grenade exploded on the other side of the door. The shock wave shaking the buildings foundation.

"Shit! We want this place intact!" Glade called loudly. Hosing the mini gun off his shoulder. Sarah glanced at the older soldier. He nodded back. The Pride pushed into the door.

All hell had broken loose inside the small corridor. Ten feet in front of them, a large super mutant Master casually ripped off one of the Talon Company's merc's leg. The beast, enraged, turned. Slamming his giant fist into some other unfortunate merc. The man had flew back with a yell. Hit the wall, and fall to the ground without another sound.

Farther down the hall, a group of five mercs were unloading their weapons at a super mutant Brute. Trying to gun down the angry abomination. Their attempts only pinging off his armor.

"Guns free!" Sarah and Vargas called simultaneously back to the rest of the Pride. Each bringing their laser rifles up and firing into the chaos.

The Master screamed in rage as a bolt of super heated light slammed through his left arm. He turn towards the Pride. Sticking one knee out in front of the other. And bending his head downwards, preparing to charge them.

Glade stepped out of formation. Coming to stand side-by-side with Vargas. He steadied the huge gun on point with the super mutant.

A hail of bullets littered the enclosed hall way. Hot lead piercing the mutant's makeshift armor. And ripping off parts of his body. Blood and gore flying everywhere.

Somewhere down the hall, a man shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"Alright, move in. Kill anything that moves!" Sarah yelled over the gun fire that echoed in the dome shaped building.

The Pride set forth, gunning down super mutants and Talon Company alike.

...

The Wanderer grunted as he used all his upper muscle strength to hoist his body onto a support beam. The ancient concrete was firm enough to hold his weight. Or so he hoped anyway.

He had dropped his rifle somewhere in the chaos below. One of the mutants or mercenaries had probably picked it up. But that didn't matter.

Crouching, the young man moved down the beam. It hadn't taken much to find a way up. A couple grenades, and one fallen pillar later, had created a nice little path.

All that had to be done now was going to the main chamber. Well he didn't really have to. The Wanderer had only came because Sarah Lyons had asked him. Not for the good of the Brotherhood. But because of that damn blonde girl.

He sighed. Shouldered the Chinese assault rifle, and pushed forward.

On the ground floor, hell had broken loose. Mutants were fighting Talon Company, Talon Company was fighting Mutants, and both were fighting Brotherhood.

Was this damned building really worth the trouble? He had asked himself that over and over again. Each syllable ran through his head. The young reached up to tuck a noisy strand of black hair behind his ear.

Quickly, he made his way through the inter lapping beams, that held the building's roof up. Within a few minutes, the Wanderer had found the central chamber.

"Damn it." He breathed into the thick green cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face. It had been fashioned in the form of a scarf.

Down below him, the giant super mutant. A Behemoth. Howled. It's roar shaking the building like an earthquake.

The Wanderer grabbed onto the beam below him to keep from falling.

What the hell are you doing!? The dark haired man screamed out in his mind. Two Talon Company mercs were lifting up a Fat Man. Or a Miniature Nuclear Catapult.

...

ROAR!

Everyone stopped. The world seemed to freeze for a minute. Not even the super mutants were shooting back.

Sarah looked up. The building itself was shaking.

"Behemoth." She spoke quietly. Not sure if the others could hear her.

"Behemoth." Vargas agreed from beside her.

The building jerked as the rest of the super mutants crowding the hallway shrieked out in reception.

A light blazed at the end of the hallway. Blowing a hole in the concrete. Sending the two wooden doors, along with two Talon Company mercs, flying.

Seven men wearing the forest green of the Talon Company burst in. Six of them had shotguns. The men parted. Running through the rubble, they had just littered across the floor. Three to each side. They began to fire.

The shotguns doing extreme damage at close range. Blood and gore seemed to splatter everywhere. The smoke slowly cleared to reveal the last man. A mountain of a man at that. Standing nearly as tall as the super mutants. He had a Gatling Laser in his arms. His armor was patched worked. Probably because they couldn't find a standard suit to fit him.

The giant started to unload his clips into the mutants.

Vargas was shoved aside. Stumbling into Sarah as he tripped. She caught him in her arms. And looked over to see what had moved him.

Knight Captain Dusk had her sniper rifle planted firmly against her shoulder. She pulled the trigger. The report of the gun echoing in the halls.

The Gatling Laser touting man at the end of the hall's head exploded. His now decapitated body stumbled forward a few steps before, dropping the miniature looking weapon, well it looked miniature compared to him anyway, falling to his knees.

"Confídunt in ferro, Brothers!" Dusk called back to the Pride behind her. The small squad roared to life behind her.

Sarah smiled beneath her helmet, helping Vargas upright. Dusk may not like the Wanderer but she did know how to get morale up. Vargas laughed infront of her.

Reaching up to her helmet. She clicked the small button on the side, that allowed for the speaker to be turned on and off. It was to only be used in emergency situations.

Static crackled through each of the Pride's com-links.

"Confídunt in ferro, Brothers!" She called out, mimicking her comrade.

"Confídunt in ferro!" Every member of the Pride roared into their microphones.

Dusk glanced back her. Sarah nodded.

"Let's go!" She yelled to them.

The Lyon's Pride surged forward. Determined to make it to the center of the Capital Building.

...

The Lone Wanderer raised his assault rifle. Emptying the clip at the two men with the Fat Man.

But it was to late.

The mini nuke was already arching through the air towards the giant super mutant.

Those idiots! There would be hell to pay for this!

The explosion shook the building like it was judgement day.

**So today is the day I finally delete "Fallout New Vegas: Betrayal of a Ranger." And start on this new series. **

**Btw "Confídunt in ferro" means Trust in Steel. I thought it was a nice motto for the Brotherhood of Steel, since I couldn't find out what "In Steel We Trust" is in Latin. If anyone knows how to say that in Latin, it would be gladly appreciated. **

**"Confídunt in ferro, Brothers!" is basically from the U.S. marine motto "Semper Fidelis, Marine!" **


	2. Chapter 2

**Fallout 3: Twenty One Six**

**Chapter 2**

The Wanderer's scream was drowned out by the explosion, that seemed to rock the Earth to it's very core. The mini nuke had contacted the ground right after the Wanderer had killed the Fat Man's wielders. But it had been to late. They had already launched the damned thing.

Nuclear fire blossomed in the dome shaped chamber below him. Roasting anything in it's small radius, blowing away parts of the floor, leaving a crater in the center. The super mutant behemoth had escaped the worst of the blast. But his limp identified that he had been hit.

Gun shots echoed down in the central chamber as Talon Company and the super mutants resumed their fight.

Slowly, but surely, the Wanderer looked around. Trying to get his bearings back after the shake of the explosion. His eyes widened. The spiderweb like cracks at the end of the concrete beam was not a good thing. One wrong move could bring down this beam and half the roof. This was bad. Very bad.

The young man's eyes glanced around quickly. He growled in irritation as a strand of black hair fell into his eyes. If he moved to fix it, it could mean death by falling. Was this some kind of cruel joke?

Groaning, the Behemoth slowly gained his balance. Swinging it's arms in an outwards fashion. Not caring for anyone that got in the way. Be they Talon Company or super mutant, alike.

The movement was shaking the building. This was bad. This was bad! This place wasn't worth it!

With a mighty roar, the behemoth's hand slammed into the wall of the Capital Building. Rattling the entire thing. The web like cracks spread up the wall. The ones on the beams, came ever so closer.

A plan formed inside the Wanderer's head. This kind of quick thinking had saved his life on more then one occasion! His hand shot out like a rocket. Ripping the combat knife from it's sheath at his belt.

The beam squealed loudly. The cracks, now dangerously close, seemed to spread farther.

Attracted by the noise, the giant mutant looked up. Catching site of the Wanderer. It roared again. Screaming at the top of it's lungs.

The Wanderer rolled into a crouch. The beam's supports snapped like twigs underneath him. Pieces of it, along with chucks of the wall began to fall towards the floor. Carrying the Wanderer with them.

His gloved hand clasped onto a hole in the cracked cement. He was still in his crouching position as the huge beam crashed downwards, gravity pulling it to the floor.

"FUCK!" The young man screamed! His own voice being drowned out by the panic from below. Using his feet, the Wanderer propelled himself off the falling concrete block!

The world seemed to go in slow motion as he flew through the air. His arms out in front him. Combat knife clasped in a death grip. The Pillar colliding down! It hit the ground below with a thundering crash! Killing whatever was unfortunate to be in it's free fall path.

Was it possible for a mutant to show surprise? He didn't know, but the Behemoth did look quite frighten by what was unveiling. The Wanderer slammed into the beast's chest. The hit knocking the breath from his lungs.

He quickly thrust the combat knife into the mutant's hide. It was surprising how soft it was right here. Refusing to look down, the Wanderer reached down and pulled a plasma grenade from his pouch.

Swinging his feet up, the young man used them to keep his balance as the mutant thrashed about. He brought the plasma grenade to his mouth. Ripped the pin out with his teeth, and held it for a few seconds.

One. Two. Three. Four. FIVE!

The grenade sailed upwards. Rearing back, the Behemoth screamed in rage. The sound deafening!

No! No! No! The Wanderer roared in his mind! NO!

The plasma grenade began to arch downwards. He hadn't timed it right! It wasn't going to explode! At least not were he wanted. Shit! If it came back down, there was a chance he'd be trapped in the blast!

With his free hand he snatched the 10mm pistol from it's holster at his waist. Letting go, the Wanderer performed the same trick he did on the pillar. Using his feet he propelled backwards! This time without a sound.

Aiming upwards. The Wanderer took a deep breath. The world around him seemed to stop. Time itself had seemed to become still. Within seconds the grenade took on a green tint. Taking aim, he fired the 10mm pistol. The bullet rushing through the air at high speeds, before slamming into the grenade.

It was all over in a seconds. The metal cylinder erupted into a huge mass of green, sending it's plasma everywhere. The green light engulfed the super mutant's head.

The Wanderer free fell to the ground. Hitting it with a thud. A loud crack echoing his impact. His vision started to fade between black and white. He gulped in huge amounts of air. Something had broke. Some bone had snapped!

"Sarah..." He breathed out slightly. The edges of his line of sight was black. The last thing he saw was the behemoth's large body falling backwards. It's face nearly scorched off from the plasma burns. He smiled lightly, as the darkness engulfed him.

...

Sarah raised her laser rifle, firing four shots off into the super mutant Brute. The thing fell with a scream. A good portion of it's stomach was blown always, leaving only smoking, charred craters.

Paladin Glade was beside her. His mini gun ripping the enemies in front of them to pieces. Vargas and Kodiak stood to her left, each firing down the hall.

The building began to shake like a hurricane. Two explosions rang out in the distance. The noise played over the gunfire, it was followed by the sound of something crashing.

Sarah lost her footing, the carpeted floor filling her gaze as she plummeted to the ground. She was stopped mid-air by Vargas's hands. He had dropped his rifle and rushed to stop her from falling. The discarded weapon now lay at, who came to take up Vargas's position, Dusk's feet.

"You alright, Soldier?" Vargas's gruff voice rumbled over the static of her com-link.

"Yea, just lost my footing, Paladin," The static making her voice crackle.

The Paladin slowly dragged her to her feet. "The fight ain't over yet, Sentinel. You ain't getting out of it this easy," He said, his voice seeming to mix with the static.

She reached down to grab her fallen rifle as Vargas helped her up.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving," Sarah said back to him. Her voice firmer then she'd met it to be. He nodded to her, and reached for his own rifle.

To her right, Paladin Glade stepped forward. Waving his Mini gun from left to right. Gunning down anything that got in his way. Following his lead, Sarah fell into a line behind him. The rest of the Pride quickly did the same as their leader.

They cleared the hallway fast enough. As the small group neared the hole in the wall, they saw what had caused the earlier explosion. And the site was not in the least welcoming.

The entire center of the building had collapsed in on it's self. Super mutants of all types were fighting against the Talon Company inside circle chamber. Rumble and debris was everywhere, and most of the enemies were perched atop piles of it. Trying to gun down one another.

In the center of all the fallen concrete and other random debris laid the huge corpse of a super mutant behemoth. The top half of it's skull was melted away, a green goo pooled around it's head. The lower half of it's face was charred and slowly melting.

"Good God," Clovin muttered. The sound echoing through their speakers. It was answered with reports of all different types of guns. And the scream of wounded men.

Each of their blood curling cries sent a shiver down Sarah's spine. Those screams were closer to home then she would have wished. She took a deep breath. Closing her eyes briefly.

A hand landed on her shoulder.

"Don't break down on us now, Sentinel." Glade's soothing voice echo'ed in her headset.

She nodded to the Paladin. Vargas stepped up beside them.

"Alright Pride. Let's show'em how furious Lions can be!" Vargas yelled into his microphone. Cheers and encouragement raised up through the Pride. They rushed into the wreckage guns blazing!

...

"Alright Pride. Let's show'em how furious Lions can be!" Crackled through the static in his headset. Gallows reached up and hit the button to turn off the com-link. He was alone. He worked alone.

The man had witnessed the dome of the central chamber collapse, as he was scouting around back of the building. Fearing the worst, he had shouldered his rifle and ran in.

Now he was here. Standing in head-high debris, shooting anything that moved. The Wanderer's limp body at his feet. Gallows suspected that the young man had something to do with the building coming down. But he had no evidence to encourage or disagree with his theory.

So for now his purpose was to protect the body. Even if he didn't know if the kid, well a kid by his standards, would make it. You never leave a Brother behind. Never. That was the first rule that was beat into you, when you grew up in the Brotherhood of Steel.

He fired off shot after shot. Each rewarding a scream of pain, or silence. Both were welcomed.

A mutie climbed atop one of the fallen pillars to his left. He span around, firing the gun without taking aim. The mutant screamed in pain, as the 50. Caliber shell tore through his arm. It's arms waving, the thing fell back down the pile.

Surprisingly enough, the mutants and mercs alike had discovered that coming in the Knight Captain's velocity met death. So most of them stirred clear, and fought each other at different parts of the fallen building.

Gallows glanced down to the body at his feet when he heard it groan.

...

Everything seemed to consort, and then distort at once. Somehow the entire room was spinning, and his vision was an assortment of different colors. Each of them to bright. They hurt his eyes.

The Wanderer wanted nothing more then to close his eyes, and give up. But giving up doesn't make you a legend.

He inhaled deeply. Pain shot through his chest like a bullet. So something had punctured at least one of his lungs. That was nice to know.

Each movement caused more pain. He flexed his fingers. Right hand? It was okay. Left hand?

Fuck! The young man screamed in his head. So his left hand was broken. That fall had taken more out of him then he had thought. This wasn't even counting the ribs he was sure were broke.

Using his right hand as leverage, the dark haired boy pushed himself into a sitting position. Every thing hurt. A soft groan left his mouth.

"Stay down." A gruff, filtered voice commanded. The Wanderer looked for the second person. Hopefully, it wasn't Talon Company. It couldn't be a mutant. They didn't talk that well. Well most of them didn't.

A power armored figure stood over him. A rifle pressed to his shoulder. Firing repeatedly at anything that was stupid enough to get in his sight.

The armored figure distorted into an array of colors, before fading to black and white. The Wanderer gasped. He couldn't stay awake. His only hope was the Angel in Armor.

The dark haired boy collapsed back into the rumble beneath him. The pain was to great to withstand. A gun shot echoed above his head. It was the last thing he heard as his vision faded away for the second time that day.

...

**Well here's chapter 2. Let your minds wander! Do you guys think I made the Wanderer to OP? **


	3. Chapter 3

**Fallout 3: Twenty One Six**

**Chapter 3**

The entire building had collapsed in on it's self. The Pride had only barely gotten out alive. Clovin had injured his leg while carrying the Wanderer's limp body.

Sarah took her helmet off. Throwing it to ground. She doubled over, her hands clapped on her knees. Panting as the wasteland's stale air hit them.

Clovin laid the Wanderer's body beside her. Taking his own helmet off, as he observed the ruins of a once grand building.

The rest of the Pride had gathered around the Wanderer's body. The young man looked as if the world had chewed him up and spit out the remains. His usually black hair was matted and covered in dried blood. The fingers on his left hand were twisted in awkward directions.

Only the slow up and down movement of his chest showed what little life the boy still had in him. The sun light glowed directly down onto him. Making his pale skin glow. Despite having been in the cruel wasteland sun for three years. The boy's skin never seemed to darken.

"Is...is he going to be alright?" Kodiak asked the question on everyone's mind.

As if in answer to the man's question. The Wanderer's blueish green eyes shot open.

Kodiak, along with the rest of the Pride stumbled back. Shocked at the sudden movement of the boy.

Sarah pushed forward. Looking at him in horror.

A sickening crack sounded as he moved his fingers. Forcing them back into place. With a grunt he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Goddamn kid, are you alright?" Glade asked from his left. His mini gun sitting at his armored feet.

"Where's my guns?" The Wanderer asked. His gaze locked on the debris.

Sarah crouched in front of him. "We couldn't get them, we barely got you out alive." She said.

She'd never noticed how old the boy's eyes made him look. His body said twenty-two. But his eyes said a hundred. The cold blue orbs were glazed over.

The Wanderer jumped up. Only wincing slightly. But not making a sound. "I need to find my sword." With that he pushed his way pass Vargas and Kodiak.

"Hey kid! Wait what are you-" Vargas cut his own sentence off as he watched the dark haired boy scramble through the wreckage.

The second-in-command of the Pride, sit there, blinking as he watched the boy climb out of the debris. A green piece of cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face. Part of it was burnt black. Yet it still did it's job of covering him.

In his left hand he held a Chinese officer's sword. Unlike the normal ones, this one had several designs carved into to it. No wonder the Wanderer wanted to keep the artifact.

The young man jumped down from a fallen pillar. Landing on his feet, before standing up straight, he stared back at them boringly. He looked as if he hadn't just returned from the dead.

"You guys should head back to the Citadel." He said, sliding his sword through a belt loop.

"What do you mean 'you guys', Aren't you coming with us?" Kodiak asked. Finally over the his fear. The Wanderer shook his head in response.

"Of course not, but I will make sure the path is clear." He reached down and pulled out a .32 pistol that was tucked in his waist band. After checking the weapon, he slide it back in place.

"You're a soldier of the Brotherhood of Steel, you need to come with us." Sarah said. Picking her helmet up from the ground.

"Well I'm not," The Wanderer said, wiping a combat knife on his pants leg. "I have more important things to do. I'll baby sit this squad until we get out of D.C., but after that, I'm jumping ship."

"Babysit? We don't need you!" Dusk yelled from the back of the Pride. The rest of the members stood silently. Watching the boy infront of them, check what gear he had left.

"Or, I could just walk away and let you go back by yourself." Finished checking his weapons, the Wanderer slide his hands in his pockets. He raised his eyebrows, waiting on an answer.

"Maybe you should do that!" Dusk yelled angerly. The Wanderer nodded.

"Alright." He turned on his heels. His back to the Pride. "I have stuff I need to do around here anyway."

"Wait, wait, you just broke every bone in your body, you need to come with us," Glade tried to convince the Wanderer.

"I'll catch up later." He said. "Sarah, tell your dad I'll meet him later."

The girl nodded. Even though the Wanderer couldn't see her, she was sure he had somehow acknowledged the movement.

With that settled. The Wanderer set off down the worn stairs. The Pride watched as he jumped from the fifth stair, onto the ground. He casually walked to a metro station. Sarah wasn't sure which one, since the D.C. area was covered in them.

The Wanderer glanced over his shoulder one last time. Before disappearing into the darkness. Letting the gate slam shut with a loud creak. That seemed to echo in the silent mall.

Sarah took a deep breath and turned to the Pride. "Move out, double time! We need to make it home."

"Yes, ma'am" and nods ran through the small squad. Sarah nodded her approval. She lifted the laser rifle over her back. It magnetized it's self to her armor with a click.

She performed an about face. And set out down the stairs. The sun high over their heads. Slowly the Pride fell in line behind her.

...

The gate closed with a loud squeal. Such an annoying sound. But it happened quite often in the Wasteland, since no one was around to oil the hinges for over five-hundred years.

But, that sound never happened in the vault. All the doors were kept clean, and working. Unless Stanley had been sick or something, and he couldn't do his daily runs.

The Wanderer stopped. He shook his head. The vault was gone. It was no longer his home. They had kicked him out. They had killed Jonas. SHE had kicked him out.

"I'm the Lone Wanderer." He muttered to himself. "Demon of the Capital, The Last Best Hope For Humanity." Trying to shake away the memories. They hurt more then any psychical wound he had ever suffered. And he was the only one who could deal with them. He couldn't tell anyone else, or do anything about it. Just tuck them at the back of his mind, and march forward.

You're Benjamin Harden. Ben, the son of James Harden. A Vault Dweller. A Human. Not some war machine. A familiar voice echoed in his head. His father's voice.

The Wanderer was surprised at the animal-like sound that came from his mouth. He sighed and leaned against the tunnel's wall. Slowly sliding down it. Finally ending in a fettle position on the floor. His knees pulled to his chest.

"Benjamin "Ben" Harden," He choked out softly. Staring at his gloved hands. The Wanderer sniffled softly. "I'm...the Lone Wanderer."

Blinking, he picked himself off the ground. All signs of emotion gone. The Lone Wanderer walked down the darken halls of the metro station.

...1 hour later...

The ghoul cried out as the combat knife ripped his stomach open. Spilling it's guts every where. The Wanderer danced backwards to avoid the mess. A howl alerted a second one, turning on his heels in a single movement. The Wanderer threw the knife. It impaled into the abominations throat. Making the thing fall to it's knees. Blood drifted down it's chest, and puddled on the floor.

He paused to look around. Four feral ghoul corpses littered the floor, along with some unlucky bastard's skeleton. The Wanderer sighed and glanced around. It seemed that he had cleared the ghouls out for now. So that should allow Sarah and the Pride safe passage through this tunnel. Not like their power armor wouldn't have stopped the feral ghoul's attacks, but still you could never be certain.

A beep rang from his Pip-Boy. The Wanderer looked down already knowing what to expect. Scribbled across the screen was an Email interface. He had set up a terminal at the Regulator HQ not long ago, so they could keep in touch with him. If he was in signal range.

Sighing, he tapped his finger on a small icon of a letter. The screen quickly changed, and words scrolled across it.

"Hey Lone, Sonora says you should check this... 'thing' out.

-Regs"

The Wanderer frowned at the screen. A... "Thing". It had to be important, otherwise the Regulators wouldn't have called him. They knew the system was only for emergencies.

Now he had to get out of this metro-system. Which would be easy. But the hard part was deciding whether if he should help the Pride first, or head straight to the Regulator HQ.

The Lone Wanderer sighed. Decisions, decisions. He set off in a brisk walk. Sticking to the shadows as he guided down the tunnels.

**Guys, I'm sorry about any errors. This chapter was written at late hours of the night. Now I need my sleep. U_U**


	4. Chapter 4

**Fallout: Twenty One Six**

**Chapter 4**

His boots left imprints in the dusty wasteland ground. His brown duster, and dark green scruff attempted to blow away in the slight breeze. The Wanderer glanced up at the old, rusted shack. It was sun drenched, and the front yard smelled of manure. The Brahman let out soft moos as he pushed pass them.

He reached forward and grabbed the old handle. Giving the door a slight push, it eased inward with a loud squeak. The thing hadn't been oiled in years. Stepping in, the Wanderer pulled down his scruff, bringing the lower half of his face in visibility. As his boots impacted the floor, a thin layer of dust erupted upward. He ignored it, the wasteland was a dust place after all. You got used to it.

Men and women sit around the shack doing various things. All of them wore the safe green duster as the Wanderer. Their heads turned to take in the man, smiles lit up the room as they saw who it was. They instantly dropped what they were doing, and rushed to the young man. Crowding him.

The Lone Wanderer gulped silently as questions shot at him from all directions.

"Wanderer! Where you been at?"

"Hey, Wanderer! Seen anymore Behemoths?"

"How it out there, Wanderer?"

A young man, only a few years younger then the Wanderer, himself, pushed through the small crowd. His duster was done in patch work, and he wore a cowboy hat. He had stumble on his chin, or what would grow there at his age, anyway.

"Ben, wants to you. Upstairs." He stepped aside, letting the Wanderer shuffle through. All eyes fell on his back as he hurried up the stairs, the other young man on his heels.

Ben pushed open the door, and noticed the woman sitting at a desk. It was pushed back to a disclosed corner of the room, with a terminal on it. She was wearing the customary duster, and sheriff hat of the higher ranking Regulators. The woman glanced over her shoulder, before swirling around in the spinning chair. The hair beneath her hair falling out slightly.

She was very beautiful, even though he hated to admit it, Ben had had a crush on her at once. But that was a long time ago. A different kid had walked into this old shack at that point. Someone else stood there then. But now, it was the Lone Wanderer standing in that kid's spot.

The young man behind him coughed slightly. He covered his mouth, and closed the door with a sharp click.

"I brought him as you asked, Ms. Cruz." He spoke swiftly, before placing his hands behind his back. Sonora Cruz nodded to him, and then diverted her stare to the Wanderer.

Ben frowned at her. He had been summoned here for important reasons. And had to leave the Lyon's Pride to fend for themselves in the middle of the D.C. ruins. Of course, they were capable of defending themselves, they had done it for years without the Lone Wanderer's aid. But Ben didn't like leaving Sarah alone out there. So many things could happen. But it was best not to dwell on unpleasant thoughts, especially when there was work that needed to be done here.

Noticing he was grimacing at the woman, the Wanderer quickly pulled his facial expression back into it's stoic mask. He slipped his hands into his pants pockets, and stared at her boringly. Raising his eyebrows slightly, telling her to go on.

"Well, Wanderer." Cruz greeted him with a grimace that matched his own. "You've been called here to discuss a small community up North."

North. That peaked the Wanderer's interests, he raised his dark eyebrows in question. "Describe 'North'."

"As in Pittsburgh." She said, leaning back in the chair. Staring up at him.

"The Pitt?" Ben whispered looking at her. She gave him an elegant shrug. It seemed off, coming from the rugged woman.

"Is that what they call it? Well we're having problems with it." Cruz swirled the chair around, and ran her fingers through a stack of files. After a few seconds of searching, she twirled back around holding a yellow folder.

"What kind of problems?" The Wanderer questioned. Eyeing the file. The front of it read 'Pittsburgh.'

Cruz held her hand out, the file stretched out towards him. The stained yellow folder hanging right in front of him. Carefully, Ben wrapped his fingers around it. Gently, as if it were something precious. Bringing it to his face. He flipped through a few pages, skimming it's contents.

"I still don't see what the problem is..." He muttered, mostly to himself, as he read a page. Licked his thumb, and slowly turned to the next.

"As it states on page 12. The city of Pittsburgh, was and apparently, still is a major provider of steel in the U.S." Cruz said. The Wanderer nodded, as he flipped to the last page of the packet. Just as she had said. Right there it said that Pittsburgh provided most of American steel before the Great War.

"Alright. What does that have to do with me being called here?" Ben asked, handing the folder back to her. Cruz took it without a word, and placed it back on to the cluttered desk.

"The problem, Wanderer, is that we've received word that in the last few years, the Pitt has began using that steel to produce massive amounts of weapons." She said over her shoulder.

"And you want to send me in to check this out?" The Wanderer crossed his arms. The Pitt was a hell hole. What difference did it make if they were building guns? There were barely enough able bodied people there to hold off the trogs, much less build a suitable force.

"Possibly, but I'm not sure yet. I suspect that they may be supplying steel to a large corporation to the North East." Cruz shuffled through the desk's clutter.

"Corporation? Give me four days, I have to do some things around the Capital, and then I'll go check it out." The Lone Wanderer span around on his heels and marched to the exit. As his finger's graced the rusted door's handle. Cruz spoke up.

"Don't start a war we can't finish, Benjamin." She had used his first name. His full first name. That was unusual. The Wanderer shrugged it off, and muttered an "okay". Before walking out.

After the Lone Wanderer had taken his leave, Sorona Cruz turned to younger man. He still stood still, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I want watches on the Northern borders at all time." She commanded. The young man threw a salute, and turned to walk out.

...A Few Hours Later...

The rusty gates of Megaton squealed and creaked as they shifted open. The giant fan above it blew lazily in the wasteland breeze. Heat hammered down, fried the grounds of Earth.

He took in all of it. Warrior's instinct. Observe everything. Analyse it. Use it.

Almost no one would stare the young man in the eyes. Very few would talk to him. He had little friends. But they were good friends. This was the price of being a legend. It was one Benjamin Harden had to burden every day of his life.

He speed walked down the slope, and took a left at the bottom. Jumping up some rickety stairs. The Lone Wanderer arrived at his house. His fingers wrapped around the ancient metal knob. With a twist, he pulled it open.

A blast of cool air shot out of the house, and hit the Wanderer dead in the face. He took a deep breath. Loving it. Ben stepped into the house, letting the cool air surround him.

The inside of the house wasn't anything special, really. Besides all of the Wanderer's trophies hanging around it's walls. He walked over to a locker that was propped in a distant corner. It opened with a creak.

The Wanderer began to dig out things from it's shelves. Vicious looking weapons. Large, and small guns. Long, curved, and wicked looking blades. He laid out all the equipment on a long picnic table in the center of the rusted room. Afterwards, he packed all of it into backpacks.

There was a sharp knock on the door.

"It's open!" Ben called back to the rusted thing. Seconds later it pushed open revealing a gristle old man. His beard looked as if he hadn't shaved it in weeks. But he stood with a pride that many in the waste couldn't claim.

"Sheriff Simms." The Wanderer greeted the man.

The Sheriff chuckled and leaned against the doorway. "I caught wind that you had come back, what took you so long this time, boy?"

"Ended up helping the Brotherhood secure the Inner D.C. area. Hell of a firefight." Ben explained to the man. Lucas Simms was his full name. He was the sheriff and 'official' leader of the small town. Over the years since Ben had escaped the vault, Simms had become a father-figure to him.

"I bet it was," The old man nodded to the weapons littering the table. "You look like you're about to go to war. Is something happening I should know about?"

The Wanderer slide his own Chinese Officer Sword from it's belt loop. He ran his fingers down the blade. Before clicking a button on the handle. The blade sparked once, before donning a slight blue glow. Electrical pulses began to appear on the blade. Before shooting out, and appearing at a different spot.

"Perhaps," Ben trailed off as he clicked the button again, killing the electrical effect. He reached down and pulled his pistol free from it's holster. "I don't know yet, after I go back to the Citadel. I'm going to go check it out. Cruz hasn't told you about it yet?"

"I haven't spoke to Sonora in three weeks. And the Regulator patrols haven't told me a damned thing." Simms pulled a cigarette out of his duster pocket. And lit it, taking a slow drag off the glowing stick. "Mind feeling in some blank spots?"

Ben sighed as he pushed some weapons out of the way. Making a sizable space on the old table. He turned around and scrambled through the locker for a few seconds. Turning around with a rolled up piece of paper. The Wanderer motioned for the Sheriff to come closer, as he rolled the paper out over the space.

Simms looked down at the paper. It was a map, a rather large map. One detailing many areas outside of the Capital. He glanced to were the Wanderer's finger was pointing. Pittsburgh. Although that had been scratched out, and "The Pitt" was scrambled underneath it.

"And that would be?" The Sheriff asked, blowing smoke out his nostrils.

"A hell-hole. Or it was, may have changed in the last year." The Wanderer trailed his finger up a little higher. "Pittsburgh was a supplier of steel before the war. And the Pitt has now started to produce this steel. Cruz thinks they're selling it to "The Institute."

"What the hell is 'The Institute'?" Simms asked, studying the map.

"I don't know much about it, but I have made contact with at least two people from inside it." Ben removed his hand from the map, and went back to packing his weapons. "And if what I hear is correct, them having steel means the Capital might catch hell in the long run."

Lucas Simms continued to study the map, running his fingers between the pin pointed locations. "Do you mind if I borrow this? I need to fill out more of the town's map."

"Go ahead, just don't tear it, or lose it."

"I won't. Well I best be going, boy. If you hear anything tell me, don't need my town in harm's way." The Sheriff folded the map up, and walked out. Shutting the door behind him. Leaving the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

A floating octopus, like robot came down the stairs. Finally noticing, it's master had returned.

"Welcome back, sir!" It called out, in it's British accent. Ben paid little attention to the thing. He finished packing his bags, before throwing them over his shoulder. Grabbing his second Chinese Assault rifle. The Lone Wanderer turned to the door. He marched to it, opened it slightly before looking over his shoulder.

"Wadsworth. Keep Dogmeat fed." The door slammed shut.

...

The walk to the Citadel only took an hour. Ever since the Brotherhood had defeated the Enclave, they had sent patrols out on most of the roads. Keeping them relatively safe.

In the last two years they had also began to accept outsiders. Despite what some of the other's thought about this. Elder Lyons had made it so. With their new policy, the Brotherhood of Steel's ranks swelled. Many people came to them looking for safety, work, and food.

With such numbers they could maintain a large part of the southern wastes. Plus they also had gained many technological feats from the Enclave. Being able to teach soldiers how to use Vertibirds, and outfit a few of them with plasma weapons.

The Wanderer never seemed to use the front entrance of the Citadel. No one ever saw him enter that way in the last few years. He just appeared there. And today was no different.

The stealth boy fizzled and then went out. Destroying the Wanderer's cloak. He sighed and tore the thing off his wrist, throwing it to the side. He had already made it into the Citadel, and was in B-Ring. Elder Lyons room was just up ahead.

He strolled casually through the hall. No one questioned why he was there. No one questioned how he had entered. The Lone Wanderer could be there at any time, and to be honest, there wasn't a damned thing the Brotherhood could do to stop him.

Wrapping his fist against the door. He heard a soft click from inside, as it opened. And an old man looked out at him. The man had white hair, and a long white beard. His eyes were sky blue. And held a sense of pride and honor.

He nodded to the Wanderer and opened the door fully. Stepping aside to let the younger man enter. The Wanderer leaned against the wall. Finding it to be impolite to sit without being asked.

Taking note of this. The old man sat at his desk and motioned for Ben to sit on an old couch. Once it was blue, but time had worn it down to a grayish color.

"Wanderer." The Elder greeted wearily. He seemed tired. Awfully tired. His eyes and gaunt cheeks showed he wasn't sleeping well.

"Elder Lyons, I assume Sarah informed you that I wanted to talk to you?" Ben asked.

"She did," Elder Lyons spoke, a soft yawn finishing the sentence.

"Well there's been a change of plans. What I needed before is no longer of relevance right now. What I need now is to know how many soldiers you could spare. The Capital Wasteland may be facing war if things go wrong up North." The Wanderer looked the old man in the eye. Many things hid behind those eyes, things that would scare an average person. Good thing the Wanderer wasn't an average person.

"A war...?" The Elder muttered. The tiredness in his voice, making it sound sheepish.

"Only if things don't go well."

"With whom?"

"The Institute. They are buying steel from the Pitt, this steel may go into making... something dangerous. Very dangerous." The Wanderer finished.

"Hm..." Elder Lyons yawned again. The bags under his eyes seemed worse with every passing second. He looked as if he wanted to pass out, but his body just wouldn't let him.

"It could end up destroying the Wasteland, and everything we've worked so hard for." Ben explained.

"Fine, fine, I can afford to spare some troops. Now let me rest..." Elder Lyons blinked. The Wanderer nodded, stood up and took his leave.

...

She looked down over the recruits practicing in the court yard. They were young and restless. Acting as if they knew it all. But the Pride was also down there. Showing up any of the Know-It-Alls.

"Sarah..." A familiar voice spoke up from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the younger boy. His black hair hung down into his eyes, a dark green scruff was wrapped around the bottom of his face. The Lone Wanderer.

"Ben?" She muttered the name. Not knowing if it was the boy's real name. He had told her it along time ago. Back when she had saved him from mutants at the GNR station. Such a long time ago...

His smile hidden behind the scruff showed in his eyes. Sarah smiled back. She would be lying if she said there was no connection between her and the Wanderer. They were not yet a couple, but they were more then friends.

"In four days, I'm headed North." He spoke. The boy's tone different then it was when he spoke to most. It was softer. More careful.

She nodded. Not questioning his intent. Although a slight ting of fear hid in her stomach, but she quickly pushed it away. He was the Lone Wanderer. Nothing can kill him. Nothing.

"Thanks for what you did back there, we saw all the bodies." She muttered. The Wanderer nodded in return, and stared out over the training field.

"I'll see you when I come back, we need to have a serious talk. Good bye for now." With that, he was off. She swore the kid had some kind of wanderlust in him. No matter how much he hid behind his mask. The Lone Wanderer, was a wanderer at heart.

He turned and walked down the stair. Headed towards the giant steel door of the Citadel.

"Good bye." She whispered to his retreating form.


	5. Chapter 5

**Fallout: Twenty One Six**

**Chapter 5**

"Two weeks!" Sonora Cruz growled. Throwing a file on the rusted floor of the Regulator compound. "He's been gone for two damned weeks!"

The papers spilling out onto it. Sighing, the young Regulator knelt down and gathered the documents. "He's just out of signal range. I'm sure he's fine." He tried to reassure the raging woman.

After collecting all the papers. And packing them back in their folder, the boy set them on Cruz's desk. She swirled around in her chair to glare at him. Wanting to throw the papers down again. Wanting to release her anger. But he wouldn't let her. So by balling her fist and slamming it onto the metal desk was her way of release.

"Are we just supposed to wait here for him? Until the fucking North comes down on our heads?!" She growled at him. "Huh, Colton?"

Lips connected to her own. Making the tension raise from her body, and flow into the young man's. He pulled away from her, and stared into her eyes. "He's alright, Sonora."

Cruz closed her eyes gently. And released a captured breath. To the Regulators, Colton Copper was just a well-rounded kid. He was an obedient, and loyal soldier of justice. But behind closed doors it was revealed that he was more then just her friend.

Sighing, Cruz leaned back in her chair. Letting her arms slope down her sides. Kicking her booted feet out in front of her.

"Five days, Col, five days. If he's not back within that time, we go to the Pitt ourselves and find out what's going on."

The young man nodded. "Okay." He turned and walked over to a filing cabinet. Grasping the handle, he yanked it open. Pulling out a bottle, half full of glowing orange liquid.

He ripped the cork out with his teeth, and spit it into the palm of his hand. Lifting the bottle, he took a long gulp of the whiskey. Downing most of it.

Cruz held her hand out. Colton knew what she wanted. He handed her the remainder of the bottle, with almost an elegance she downed the rest of it.

"Over the lips and through the gums..." The woman muttered to herself. Seeming to forget the younger boy in the room. He chuckled and took the bottle from her hand. Pressing the cork back into it.

"And after these five days? What then?" He asked. Not sure what his 'lover' was planning. The woman was beautiful to him. Even when she got angry. His young brown eyes surveyed her movements.

"We strike first, and show them some Regulator justice."

...

The blonde paced back and forth. Her hands clasped behind her back. Sarah was dressed in simple cargo pants, and a stained tank top that was once white. Bare feet impacting the old tiles beneath her. The floor was cold. It was always cold.

"What's taking him so long...?" She muttered to herself. Turning around, and walking the stretch of the room again. Her feet came to down one after another. First her left came to a halt. Then her right came to sit beside it.

She hadn't heard the door open. Yet there it was, wide open, and in the doorway stood Paladin Glade. He smiled at her. A reassuring smile. One that told her, she needed to calm down. And stay calm.

He was wearing the Brotherhood's standard issue Recon Armor. Excepting the hood. As long as Sarah had known the man before her, he had never worn the hood to the armor. Of course, she never questioned this. But over time, she found herself mimicking it.

Glade walked across the room and sit on his bed. The bed squeaked under his weight. They were old, and the framework rusty. He nodded to the bed in front of him. Sarah sighed, and shot him a half-hearted glare.

But she walked over, and sit down anyway. Like always, it squeaked under her weight as well.

"You know he's fine." Glade's smooth voice said. It had a soothing quality to it. One, that she believed could calm a DeathClaw. Maybe she was exaggerating...

"Yeah, I know." The blonde girl muttered, looking at her bare feet. She laid back on the bed. Her blonde hair fanning out over the stained pillow. It was old. Many years old, yet still as soft as a feather.

"Then why were you pacing?" He asked. Doing the same. Laying down on his bed. The squeaking only a mere background noise.

"It helps me think, takes my mind off of things." Sarah said, her hands folding behind her head.

"I see," Glade paused and rolled on his side to face. The gap between their beds seemed like an abyss. "So what were you thinking about?"

"Him..."

"Exactly." He chuckled. The man swing his legs off the bed. And stood up. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. "How about we head down to the range, and have a friendly competition?"

He grinned down at her, offering his gloved hand. Sarah sit up. Locking her hand with his. And gave the older man a fierce grin. Glade made a sound in the back of his throat. It sounded like a half laugh.

"You ain't ready, kiddo." He smirked pulling her to her feet.

"Bring it, old man." Sarah jumped up. Bare feet landing hard on the tile floor. She ignored the chill and followed Glade out the door. Snatching up her laser rifle on the way out.

...

Two weeks of riding on a rail car. Sitting in the dark, listening to nothing but the small motor powered engine pushing the damned thing along. Eating what little rations the he had brought with him. This was the hell the Wanderer went through every time he came to the Pitt.

The rail car began to slow down as a dim light shone through the large gate at the end of the tunnel. A rail stopper was at the end of it. So there was no worries of the car going off the tracks. The Wanderer had turned the motor off a few minutes earlier, letting momentum and inertia carry him forward.

It's front end pounded into the stopper with a gentle bump. Barely shaking the frame of the old transporter. The Wanderer reached down and grabbed his backpack. Tossing the bag over his shoulder. He looked down. The key to the motor was on a string around his neck. Wrapping one hand around his backpack strap, he leaped off the rail car and onto the cracked pre-war concrete.

Ben tilted his head back in the old train tunnel. He took in a deep breath. The air was stale in here. The doors to this place haven't been opened in weeks. Ever since Werher had gained leverage here. But that didn't stop the toxic air of the industrialized pre-war Pittsburgh to seep in.

The air smelled of a combination between dusk, smoke, and many other unsavory things. Choking down the need to gag. The Lone Wanderer set forth.

A small blue door. That was worn with age. Was the only thing keeping him inside the old tunnel. The Wanderer reached out, and twisted the handle. It opened easily enough. But it's unoiled hinges made a loud squeak, which echoed throughout the empty tunnel. Ben shivered. The faster he checked out all of this nonsense the better. The Pitt was a hellhole, and their was no saving it, as they had done with the Capital Wasteland.

He wretched on rusty handle. Jumping back as the entire door fell of it's hinges. Falling where he was just standing. He cursed under his breath, and pulled the scarf up.

Inside the ancient room paint peeled off the old concrete walls. Along the wall to the Wanderer's left a shelf stood. It's contents had been looted long ago, now only a few old cans lay on it. Sighing, the Wanderer stepped into the foot. Looking down as one of the dusty tiles crumbled to bits beneath his feet.

He took another delicate step inside. Thankfully, the other tiles held themselves together. Glancing around he spotted a small light switch on the side of the wall. It was a far cry that it would work. But he took the chance and flipped it on. The light above his head flickered once. Twice. Three times! It came on! It worked! The old bulb gave off a dull dim, just enough light for him to see around in the room. It was a small room, he was across it in only a few brief steps.

Ben reached out, his gloved fingers wrapping around the handle of the door. Like the other, it was a pale, faded blue. He pressed it forward gently. Hoping the thing wouldn't put up a fight.

It wouldn't budge.

"Damn it," He muttered into his scarf. Rising so the tiptoes of his steel-toed boots touched the ground, the Wanderer looked out the screened window. It was to small to fit through. He could barely get his hand through it. He punched through the screening. And looked out of the hole for a clear view.

He cursed under his breath at the sight. The hull of a car sat heaved in front of the door. So pushing it outwards would never work. Why did things have to be so difficult?

Pushing himself off the door, Ben took a few steps back. He glanced around the room. It was pretty bare, even for something two-hundred years old. The walls were ancient grey concrete. The only furniture in the room was the old rusted shelf to his rear. And the only other exit was back into the train tunnel.

With a sigh, the Wanderer reached for his combat knife. He stepped back to the door and knelt down on one knee. Another tile crashed beneath his weight.

The hinges were rusted and old. Just as expected, but they should break. Flipping the combat knife into an overhand grip. Ben slammed the tip of it into one of the hinges.

A sting ran up his hand as steel impacted steel. He growled beneath his breath. The impact had barely done anything. Only a small crack had appeared in the metal. Then again, that was better then nothing.

Rising his hand a second time, he repeated the action. Violently slamming the blade down onto the hinge as if it were a hammer.

The crack widened.

Finally some progress!

On the third hit, the rusted hinge shattered beneath the blade. Standing up the Wanderer went to work on the second one. It wasn't nearly as worn as the first. So it took him around eight minutes to finally break the hinge. But in the end it to had shattered.

Grabbing hold of the door's sides. The Wanderer stepped back, peeling the door from it's hole in the wall. Letting the toxic air of the Pitt rush into the room.

He set the thing aside. The car was still an obstacle though. Thankfully, not a huge one. He hopped over the old hollow where the engine once pounded. But it had fallen out a long time ago. Way before his time.

The world outside wasn't much to look at. Just an abandon train yard. When he had first arrived a group of Pitt raiders, what at the time served as the Pitt's militia, guarded the area. But him and Werher took care of them. Time had taken the bodies away. And no one was here anymore.

Over the last year this place was obviously not kept up with. The old walkway to his left was rusted and broken when he had first came, but still usable. Now it lay crashed atop the old train that sit waiting for it's engineer on the tracks.

He jumped down from the car. His feet hitting the dusty concrete that laid beside the track. Sending dust and grime everywhere. The scarf around his mouth kept it from his nose and mouth. But eyes weren't so lucky. Dirt had gotten in them, adding to the stinging effect the toxic air was already causing.

Ignoring the stinging sensation. The Wanderer pressed forward, marching through the wreckage. Vaulting over any fallen obstacles of the old world.

At last he finally arrived at a small cut between the canyon, in which the train yard lay.

The Wanderer growled to himself. The entire passage had collapsed on it's self. It was nothing but piled up boulders now. This pushed him forward. He walked closer to the destruction. Examining it wasn't his first plan. Well it wasn't a plan at all...

More of an instinct.

But it had paid off. Even if he didn't mean for it too.

His eyes ran across the wreckage, and debris. Scanning for something that he didn't even know was there. But it was.

Blast marks lined the wall. No one else would have noticed them. The black was only a few shades darker then it's surrounding. But that was all it took for the Wanderer to see it.

Someone had blew this place to hell and back. Meaning, someone didn't want someone else to enter.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It was something he could analyze later. For now he just needed to clear this wall of stone. With a sigh the Wanderer began scrambling up the pile.

After what seemed like hours of climbing. Having his boots catch into footholds that gave loose, sending tons of small rocks tumbling down below him. Grabbing risky outcropping that could give way at any minute could give away.

But in the end he had made it to the top. The Wanderer tossed his backpack over the top. Before clamping his fingers on the edge, and hauling his body up.

Standing atop the wall the Wanderer's duster caught the breeze. Blowing out behind him. Not far from his position sat the giant bridge that led to the Pitt. It's once great arches now rusted and grinded away by the water beneath it, and the toxic atmosphere around it. Cars filled the way across it.

Ben ran a hand through his black hair, shoving it out his eyes. Heaving the backpack over his shoulder, he set out towards his goal.

**I don't know why, but I feel as if this chapter isn't very good. *shrugs* You guys tell me what you think, and maybe give me tips to improve. Thanks for reading ^.^**


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